


It’s Just Business, Nothing Personal

by fuckyeahlucifersupernatural



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-09-12
Updated: 2011-09-12
Packaged: 2017-10-23 16:58:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,248
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/252656
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fuckyeahlucifersupernatural/pseuds/fuckyeahlucifersupernatural
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"They were two soulless and heartless assholes, but together there has never been such a show of contagious life with inhibitions thrown out the window." [Soulless Sam Winchester x Lucifer]</p>
            </blockquote>





	It’s Just Business, Nothing Personal

**Author's Note:**

> __
> 
> “Feeding on fever, down all fours  
> Show you what all that howl is for  
> Hey, hey, my playmate let me lay waste to thee  
> Burned down their hanging trees  
> It's hot here hot here hot here hot here  
> Got a curse we cannot lift, shines when the sunset shifts  
> There's a cure comes with a kiss, the bite that binds the gift that gives   
> We’re howling forever...”
> 
> _Wolf Like Me by TV On The Radio_   
> 
> 
> **Disclaimer:** This is fan-run and this writer is not officially affiliated with the CW Network, Kripke Enterprises, Warner Bros., and other official affiliates tied to the TV Show "Supernatural." This user does not claim ownership to the official content of Supernatural and does not seek profit off of the work produced presently. Plagiarism of this current story will not be tolerated and will be reported following AO3's terms of service. The stories, additional characters I create, are mine. This story was not created for profit. Making profit is deemed copyright infringement unless sanctioned by copyright holders (i.e. CW Network, Kripke Enterprises, Warner Bros., etc.). Copyright infringement can range from paying a fine to actual jail time. Please do not claim this story as yours! Please do not sell this story! Please do not reproduce this story! All violators will be reported and dealt with severely! 

“How do I break this to you without sounding rude,” came the smooth and calculated words that rang with boredom and weariness from giving the same speech over and over again, “To be frank, you’re fat.”

The five foot and seven inches woman from Oakland, California stared in growing horror at the immaculate dressed brunette sitting at the polished mahogany table at the infamous restaurant, the _Divine Comedy_. The pixie-cut blonde was hoping that she would be able to work either in the restaurants, casino, or hotel in the _Paradise Lost Hotel & Casino in Las Vegas_. It has grown into a multi-billion establishment that has been expanding predominately in Europe at the moment, leaving this to be the only true and original treasure in the good ol’ United States. Having been in cheerleading since she has been in middle school to college, she thought she would be a shoe-in. Lean, kept herself in shape, avoided any sweets, and all the other sacrifices she made to keep her figure...and here she was being called fat.

That stung.

So pursing her lips, she watched the young male in his clean-press onyx suit grab his martini and take a sip before placing the drink down. Eyes were a lukewarm pale green, soft hints of ale brown seeping in around the edges, “You have a decent face...but if you lost ten pounds, I wouldn’t be having this conversation.” Her lips became a thinner line, gripping the edge of the table at the empty restaurant, wishing someone would come to her defense.

“Plus...I’ve seen prettier. This isn’t some charity case establishment, Cindy -- ”

“Alexia. It’s...Alexia...” she gritted out.

“Whatever. So...I suggest that you go take this...resume of yours printed off of Kinko’s cheapest stack of paper, and take it to McDonalds. Unless you want me to burn it for you, than I’m happy to do so,” he heaved out, pushing the stapled document across the table towards her as if it was riddled with some sort of bacteria. Sam was beginning to wonder if he should bring hand sanitizer when it came down to interviews. The blonde stared at it before snatching it, rising to her feet abruptly to leave.

Snarling at the unfazed brunette who was blinking slowly like some sleepy feline, she barred her teeth, “You know what, you’re a fucking dick.”

“That’s what happens when you’re a male. You get a dick. Fascinating, yes?” came the snarky comeback, the blonde storming out and kicking any available chair on her way out.

Sam Winchester was the right-hand man to the brain child of _Paradise Lost_ , having worked here for the past...four to five years now. This place was exquisitely structured after Dante’s _Inferno_ and Milton’s _Paradise Lost_ , with the first floor being ‘Limbo.’ There laid the lobby and the front desks where guests can check into their hotel rooms. Second level -- or rather Circle -- was more in tuned with Las Vegas’ nightlife. Playing off of the second circle of Hell being the area where those plagued with lust, laid the forever alive club and strip club. Each section of that floor was perfectly color-coded to ensure that patrons were not...confused, as to what was what. Started off from dark blue as the main dance floor to a blood red section that was referred to the public as the ‘Red Light District.’

Third Circle was where Sam Winchester was currently residing in, having grown tired of holding the interviews in his clean office. Moving it down to the currently closed restaurant, he felt it was appropriate to have a drink while interviewing the potential candidates. Sam had till four-thirty until he had to move himself, not wishing for the entering public to see him humiliate these pathetic excuses called women. This was exactly why he stuck with models. They may be a bit brain dead at times, but if it meant a beautiful face than so be it.

They were consistently changing their staff -- females and males. If they reached the age over twenty-eight or began to show one sign of a laugh line, they were immediately fired. If they gained a pound that wasn’t muscle? Fired. If they had a blemish Sam could still see through their cover up? Fired. If they got one negative comment? Fired.

It was all about perfection, and Sam Winchester was an ambitious human being who held high standards when it came to the topic. It probably wasn’t any help that his boss, Nick (aka Lucifer), was encouraging those high standards of his.

“You’re not pretty enough. Next.”

“Not looking for red-heads at the moment. Next.”

“Is that a mole? Next. You better get that checked...might be cancer.”

“Your left breast...is too big. Next.”

“Don’t like your chin. Next.”

“Spider veins? Dear god...get out.”

Once upon a time, Sam Winchester was the one who would compliment others, care too much, go out of his way to help others, and the whole nine yards when it comes to being a Good Samaritan. But one day...due to a series of unfortunate events, he killed it off. All those puppy-dog smiles and family-enriched morals just died. The only way to succeeded in life is to be cold, methodical, ambitious, and uncaring. Fired from his job due to unethical conduct, it was by chance that Lucifer found him.

Sam knew the staff joked that he lost his soul to the Devil, and in turn for the wealth and fame he had to work for Satan himself. The young Winchester was quite pleased with this rumor, because it absolutely meant nothing to the booming success _Paradise Lost_ has been receiving for a decade now. Nothing in Vegas could top it. The casinos on the Fourth Circle was a sight to behold, the security system and the all the hardware on the Eighth Circle would have technicians salivate. Than, finally the Sixth and Seventh Circle held possibly the most beautiful and uniquely crafted rooms that provided only the best service one could buy with amenities one could simply die for.

So everything had to _breathe_ perfection and he was not going to sugarcoat his feelings for these inadequate girls.

Rising from his seat, gathering the files placed neatly before him on the table, he left to find his infamous boss. Call it...pathetic, but he was fond of the so-claimed ‘Lucifer’ the way a crack addict is of his fix. The male provided him with money, attention, women, a high position in the work force, and the list simply goes on and on. Sam Winchester understood his worth in this world but if someone was going to triple his worth? He was going to take it -- use and abuse the drug before him. While there was the high possibility that he was simply being as used and abused by his boss, he simply could care less at the moment.

All his basic needs were satisfied. All his carnal and violent wishes capable of being executed, and there was no older brother to scold and reprimand him about his addiction and claim he was some monster. Oh no, he ditched that ‘superego’ a _long_ time ago.

Giving a nod to Lucifer’s secretary, Ruby, who simply rolled her eyes at him, he took the liberty of entering Lucifer’s office on his own. Closing the door behind him quietly, he eyed the rather empty office... Usually Lucifer was on the phone or dealing with paperwork, which was something he was thankful he didn’t have to deal with too often. Fingering his phone that was nestled in his pocket, he moved towards the glass doors that led to one of the balconies on the Ninth Circle.

“Why is it every time I attempt to sleep...you somehow manage to show up?” a voice sleepily drawled, Sam turning his attention to the blonde sprawled on a tan chaise lounge chair.

“What...the wife kick you out of the bed last night?”

“Ooo, Sam, Sam... Let’s not insult my wife’s poor judgement when she’s not here to defend herself,” Lucifer informed with a mischievous grin tickling his lips, eyes still closed as he bathed in the warmth of the sun. “So nice of you to care though, Sam. Things like this remind me that you oh so do love me.” Sardonic words that were sugared, the brunette chuckling as he eyed the blonde that stretched like some golden feline. Opening his eyes, he absentmindedly scratched his neck before turning intelligent eyes to his towering right-hand man. “Perfect timing actually...I may have something fun for us both,” he began, already going into business.

“Since you are always so eager for me to amuse you...I have to fire Crowley from our Marketing Department, apparently he has been stealing money,” he sighed out, rising to his feet to attend to his iPhone, moving back inside his office. Moving over to his desk, he picked up the crimson folder on the desk and handed it to Sam’s awaiting hand. Opening it, he skimmed through the papers, eyeing what truly mattered in all this legal paperwork nonsense.

“How much has he taken and when did it start?” Sam asked, interested in how a ten year employee who has risen to the top of his department gotten away with such a thing right underneath their noses.

Lucifer hummed in thought before standing next to him, lean frame looking over a massive shoulder before clicking his tongue in thought, “He has stolen from us twenty-four thousand dollars... Which is nothing, really. A teacher’s salary on a good year -- or is it a fast food employee’s salary....”

“Ouch.”

“Anyhow, apparently this is the first time he has ever gotten sticky fingers and this loss of money was discovered less than twenty-four hours ago,” the blonde finished, slipping his phone inside his pocket as he weaseled a hand out to snag the file out of Sam’s hands. Lucifer was rather protective and anal (in Sam’s enlightening opinion) when it came to funding, consistently checking and double checking to the point it made Sam sick to his stomach. “But that’s not why I need you right now,” he gave a malicious grin, moving over to the edge of his desk to sit on the edge, “I’m debating how I should fire him -- because I would love to do it personally. No one steals from me...not even silverware.”

The Winchester gave a nod, crossing his arms across his chest, “You want me to rough him up?”

“Sam...I’m flattered, but that may lead to a lawsuit if there are obvious markings. I was thinking either we corner him and berate him, or we do it in public unless you can be...careful. Make a big show out of it with security guards and all...and you can help them out if you feel that testosterone of yours kicking in,” Lucifer quipped back, and if Sam was anyone else...he would have grown insulted or hurt by those words. Instead he merely snorted in disbelief and moved on forward, calloused fingers gently pulling the file out of his hand. Leaning forward, a cruel smirk perfectly aligned on his lips, he met those half-lidded orbs of pale blue.

“I always love it when you’re on your period. All that estrogen kicks in and your insults become oh so witty,” Sam cheekily replied back, embolden due to the lack of caring what the consequences may be. He was deeply confident in the secure relationship he held with his boss, and he arrogantly was aware that Lucifer wouldn’t be a fool as to fire him. So things like this...this total disregard for authority was something he exercised whenever the time arose.

“Careful, Winchester, you’re going to force me to make you go out on tampon runs.” Sam opened his mouth to reply but found words escaping him, giving a disgruntled sound in defeat. Earning a pat on the cheek and a coy wink from the blonde, Lucifer slipped out of his line of vision. “Come, Sam, time to fire people. Tell security to kindly escort Mr. Crowley to my office...might as well keep the suspense high and do it your way,” he cooed out with sharp authority and dripping enthusiasm, and like that Lucifer had a way of putting him in his place. It was always subtle but it was something that Sam did not wish to be repeated. He saw how Lucifer dealt with those who did not meet his ever rising expectations, and oh was it ugly.

“Are we going _The Godfather_ or _The Usual Suspects_ on him?” Sam mused as he watched the devil move to a mirror to adjust his clothes.

“Hmm...let’s do both with a hint of _The Sopranos_. I’m feeling particularly risk-taking today,” Lucifer smirked, brushing imaginary dust off of his shoulders as he made his way back to his desk. Pausing to fiddle with the Winchester’s tie, adjusting the silk fabric underneath his fingers, he gave a wry chuckle, “All this abuse could have been avoided if that darling wife of mine wasn’t so stingy, yes?”

“I feel like you can’t always use her as an excuse for every problem that comes to be...”

“Sam...when you get married, the priest informs you that you can till death do you part. Now if you want to be an overachiever, you blame your spouse even after death...” the blonde informed him, patting his chest before moving to his desk. Sam shook his head, a hopeless sigh leaving his lips as he watched the smooth movements of his boss. It was always difficult to pry his eyes off of his expressive boss -- like watching an actor on stage that continued to catch your eye despite the fact someone else on stage was speaking.

“I pretty certain that you got married in a frightening alleyway... There is something very faulty with your logic,” Sam heaved out, earning a warm chuckle from the blonde who made a motion for the Winchester to go on and do as he was told. It was after speaking with Ruby was security notified to ask Crowley to join them in Lucifer’s office where the devil awaited...

A pink tongue was prodding and playing with a particularly sharp incisor, the white enamel of perfection revealed in smooth alignment. Whenever there was a moment when Lucifer was in thought or revealing some form of emotion, his tongue was consistently doing something on its own volition. Either it was pressing against the inside of his cheeks when in deep thought or skimming the surface of his teeth or lips when about to give out judgement -- the two main activities Lucifer seemed to be engaged in during these hours of the day.

Honestly, Lucifer was Freud’s wet dream with this oral fixation of his. The young Winchester explained once over a drink such a thought and how there was a reason as to how one, as a child to an adult, develop such an oral fixation: A) had problems being weened from his mother’s breast and/or B) simply couldn’t stop sucking his fingers till a later stage in his childhood.

Needless to say, Sam ended up being publicly humiliated shortly after. Sam was still hearing whispers and jokes of that night and his...walk of shame across the Las Vegas Strip. As difficult as it was to be blatantly blunt and point out Lucifer was doing it again and how he always had to be doing something with his mouth...he managed to keep his own mouth somehow shut. Apparently poking fun at your boss was considered impolite. Who knew?

Jerked out of his musings at the sound of the large Brazilian Rosewood doors opening inward, two large men in suits dragged a hissing and snarling dark-haired male in its wake. “Let me go, you hairless apes,” the male spat, finally managing to jerk himself out of their firm hold when he was yanked in front of Lucifer’s desk. “Last time I checked phones were invented for a reason. Is there really a need to send security to see you, your highness?” Sam furrowed his brows at offensive tone those words held, nostrils slightly flaring as he turned to Lucifer, as if asking for permission he could strike the man. Lucifer lightly shook his head, making the brunette give out a thick growl in the base of his being but relaxing nonetheless.

The blonde blinked innocently before pointing a finger at himself, “I’m the ‘highness?’ Crowley...stop it, you’re going to make me blush. Well...since you’re being so sweet to me, I’ll be gentle. You were called to my office because of your hard work, and I think that everyone should be made aware that you focused your time and effort into stealing a meager twenty-four thousand dollars in the last twelve hours from me.”

Silence fell before the dark-eyed male made a face and shook his head, snorting in amusement at such a claim. “What?” he almost barked out in laughter, but Lucifer only kneaded his bottom lip with his teeth as if he was hesitant about being cruel or using some sort of form of force. Sam knew better...knew that Lucifer was being a little pretentious ass at the moment, pretending as if he was some sympathetic judge who hated to accuse others of such crimes. Bullshit.

Giving a heavy exhale of air, Lucifer lightly flicked his fingers and immediately the Winchester stalked over to the much shorter male eagerly. Ramming his fist into his gut, a satisfying sound left Sam as he watched him double over, rolling his shoulders as if preparing for another go. If there was anything Sam enjoyed when it came to working with his boss was that Lucifer stepped on the line of right and wrong consistently. Yes, there were times like today where he goaded Lucifer to take it a step further...but that only made their relationship only more appetizing. Lucifer handled things through violence when he saw fit, and it was always a pleasure to be the right-hand of the devil.

“You see...I don’t like that response, so this is how we’re going to play it,” the blonde began empathetically, “If you don’t explain who you worked with this in this cheap little endeavor in ten seconds...I will have Sam here take care of you. For your information...I’ll start to count to ten but at five I usually become impatient.”

“You can’t be serious -- ”

“10...9...”

“I can assure you that this is violating more than one right -- ”

“8...7...”

“A lawsuit. Believe it, and you’ll be losing more than twenty-four thousand dollars, you arrogant ass -- ”

“6...5...”

On cue the heel of Sam’s palm made its way to Crowley’s nose, hand moving to grip the immaculately-dressed VP of Marketing by the scruff. “Oh look, I’m impatient now,” Lucifer mused out with boredom. A howl in outrage filled the room, a hand cupping the abused and bleeding nose as he admirably cursed them both.“What did you say we were going for again?” Sam seethed out over him as he hoisted him off the ground, eyes of now vomit green burning in rampant excitement at the power suddenly handed to him.

“I thought we agreed it was a mixture of _The Godfather_ , _The Usual Suspects_ with a bit of _The Sopranos_ ,” Lucifer hummed out, pushing himself out of his leather chair to make a motion to the balcony. Chuckling in mirth, he followed after the Winchester who carried the VP of Marketing effortlessly outside, a wide grin grasping his face that made him only look boyishly charming. “So in other words, yes Samuel, you have the right to toss our _‘darling’_ Vice President off the balcony,” the blonde finished, fishing for something in his pocket as Crowley began to instantly squirm.

“Excuse me? Toss me off?!”

“Come on, Crowley, who the hell steals a teacher’s salary from a casino? We’re tossing you for lack of creativity,” Sam cheekily informed because hot damn, he never seen a man go splat on the sidewalk before and Lucifer may actually give him the absolute pleasure of seeing it happen.

God, he loved his job.

Placing him down, awaiting eagerly for the orders to flip him over, he eyed Lucifer pull a carton of cigarettes out, tapping it against his palm in a steady and rhythmic beat. “Crowley...I understand the temptation is there to steal and assume that somehow I wouldn’t notice a small amount of money go missing...and in that, I am impressed. You’d tried to outwit me, but I’m afraid you failed,” the owner began calmly, a harsh twang gripping his words that told Sam that storm was coming. Lucifer was all smiles and sympathetic words, but when that time came when he had to show his teeth in such a way... It made shivers run down his spine at the negative energy radiating off of the blonde like a contagious, airborne virus.

“If I ever catch you stealing from me again...I will go out of my way to peel your skin off with a potato peeler, and gut you with my bare hands.That was something I expressed to everyone who worked here from day one, and you should know better...” he began carefully, pausing to stick the eggshell-white cigarette between his lips, lighting it with perfected ease.

“So this is what’s going to happen,” Lucifer exhaled with a soft cloud of smoke, “You’re going to go to court. You’re going to lose more than the twenty-four thousand dollars you took. You’re going to spend jail time. You’re going to end up unemployed when you get out. You’re going to end up on a corner with a cardboard sign by the exit of the highway, and I’m going to laugh my expensive Armani ass off. Unless...we make ourselves a deal...”

Lucifer leaned against the railing of the balcony, taking in a slow drag of the cigarette in his mouth before plucking it gently out of his pink lips. Exhaling the smoke, he squinted curiously at the city beneath him before turning to the pinned man on his left. “You can make it easy or you can make it hard...were you the only one involved in this little money theft?” he asked, blue eyes watching Crowley glare at him darkly. The little prick didn’t believe he had it in him to drop him, and so with that he frowned and turned to the awaiting Sam Winchester.

“Sam...would you please show Crowley the beautiful view?” The brunette nodded and before Crowley could sputter out a protest, the hulking male removed his forearm that was pinned against the male’s neck to only push him off the railing. Hands grabbed him by the ankles, already bruising skin as veins bulged, keeping him secure for now.

A sound of apallment and shock escaped the Vice President of Marketing, watching in despair his phone slip from his slack’s pocket and plunge down to its death. “Let me try this again before Sam decides to release you. Ahem. Were you the only one involved in this little money theft of yours?” Lucifer began again, speaking slower, because who the hell knew. Maybe the man had a learning disability and couldn’t understand the simple words coming out of his mouth. Didn’t matter...for the blonde was more than confident that Crowley would be singing all the answers to him very, very soon.

“Brady? I feel like he just pulled him out of his ass....” Sam protested when all was done with, the VP of Marketing just escorted out of the building and told to go home to stuff toilet paper up his bleeding nose.

“Perhaps literally, but I’m not going to take that chance... Going to have to re-run background checks, even with our senior employees. No exceptions,” the blonde sighed, pulling his phone out and immediately turning his attention onto the device in his hands. “I don’t care if someone decides to quit today, they are going to go through the motions one way or another... Anyhow...we need to keep this hush hush with the press for now. Kill all rumors within the building...but please refrain from killing people, Sam.” The Winchester rolled his eyes before giving a sudden hum in realization.

“Speaking of killing people, your Father called,” the young Winchester informed, eyes keenly staring at his boss who was sitting on the gleaming black leather couch in his office. His attention that was focused on his iPhone was almost torn away, instead raising a blonde brow in a sign for Sam to continue. Yet the brunette kept his mouth shut, a knowing little smirk breathing lovingly across his pink lips, knowing that the blonde devil would find himself forced to speak -- to turn his attention aside from whatever task to focus on him.

A vain little show of power Sam loved to use when it came to Lucifer, knowing it pissed the older male off but not enough to gain a harsh rebuttal. Lucifer hated not knowing.

“What did you do?” Lucifer finally asked, but his attention was still focused on the phone. Fingers tapped silently on the screen, eyes reading whatever was on it, and the brunette frowned lightly but continued onward.

“I told him I’d transfer him to your secretary...”

Lucifer furrowed his brows, not quite sure how Ruby -- his fawning secretary -- didn’t inform him that his Father was transferred to his desk phone. Lightly glancing at Sam, he gave him a look that said he didn’t buy it, “Oh? You did? He probably wanted to know when I’ll ever come home...” But his attention was turned back quickly to the phone, but that was okay... Sam has yet to deliver the punch line, and he knew that his next words would have his unattainable boss give him his undivided attention.

“Not sure what he wanted... I hung up on him,” he casually purred out, shrugging his large shoulders, lips curling into a satisfied and smug grin.

Lucifer paused, lightly blinking in soft surprise at the words that just registered into his skull. His father, the self-proclaimed ‘Alpha and the Omega’ in the family who disowned him, was hung up on. Slipping his phone in his pant’s pocket, no longer interested in what he was toying around with, he turned his burning blue eyes to his right hand man. “...you hung up on my Father?” he questioned before running his tongue over the roof of his mouth, crooking a finger for the Winchester to come closer.

Sam did so with his long legs, not entirely sure anymore if that was such a clever idea. Knowing how bipolar Lucifer could get when it came to his equally bipolar family, he may end up scooping up his internal organs back into his stomach. So hardening himself, awaiting for god know’s what, a yelp in surprise gripped him when he was roughly tugged down by his tie.

Lips crashed against his, a hand keeping his head in position due fingers fisting itself into his perfected locks and yanking his head closer to his. Finding his knee sinking into the spot of the couch beside Lucifer, he had no choice but to sit in his lap or suffer from the awkward position of being leaned forward to such a degree. Despite how long he has known the man, things like this still always surprised him...

The Devil was impulsive and rather physically domineering when he had the luxury to be so. While in front of others he was a sharp-witted owner who would snap his fingers for judgement to rain down. To lay a hand on another in execution or in any form of harsh judgement was forbidden if he cared about the empire he built. That was why Sam was his right hand of God, the one to land the blow while Lucifer patiently watched. But with him...oh, with him...he was Lucifer’s punching bag, his closest companion, and his spontaneous lover.

Teeth nibbled at his bottom lip, kneading the pink flesh before the Winchester willingly opened his mouth for a tongue to slip in. Exploring and tasting the wet flesh of Sam’s mouth, he drew back to chuckle gently against his lips, “You have kicked my oldest sibling out, planted fake chips on my youngest sibling to be handled roughly by security, and now you have hung up on my Father...”

“I feel like there is more...” he murmured playfully in response, watching cooly from above his boss.

“Oh, that’s right...nearly tossing the VP of Marketing off the ninth floor and insulting all the interviewees. Eventually all those complaints they write are going to go up the chain of command and end up on my desk,” he was chuckling, and Sam could only shrug his shoulders.

“I would complain too if I looked like them,” came the snarky response, and a brilliant smile graced Lucifer’s lips, teeth a stark white in contrast to the black leather couch behind him.

“This is why you do not have friends.”

“Oh, and you’re one to talk?”

“Touche.”

They were falling into a fit of laughter, hands reaching out for the other, clapping shoulders and thighs at their amusement. Giving breathy chuckles as the laughter faded, despite how cold...despite how firm...how resolute he kept himself, Sam just couldn’t help but grin despite himself. They were two soulless and heartless assholes, but together there has never been such a show of contagious life with inhibitions thrown out the window. They were men who knew that tomorrow was unpredictable, the past was long gone, but the present was but a present. They lived life to the fullest, smoking in nonsmoking rooms, opium adventures around the red light district, and spur of the moment vacation trips because they simply could. Impulsive creatures when together, controlled when apart... It was the reason why Lucifer _wanted_ Sam Winchester from the minute he laid his eyes on him.

No one could be so tragic yet successful all in one like himself...except for Sam.

His right hand cupped Sam’s left cheek as he was still chuckling, eyes closed as he began to lean his head forward to rest it on an awaiting shoulder. The blonde’s lips curved into a smirk as he turned his head into his, nose lightly skimming Sam’s cheekbone, both of their heads turned downward to their laps.

“I suppose...I have been a bit cruel...” Sam admitted somewhere near his chin, and Lucifer cocked a brow and gave a short bark of laughter.

“You have managed to make our staff of girls into insecure messes who are now Jenny Craig diet fanatics and throwing up in the toilet when they take in too many carbs... That is far from a ‘bit cruel,’” Lucifer replied back, already hearing the sound of growing pleasure in the core of Sam’s being, ego probably stroked silly at such a comment.

The Winchester was slipping his fingers underneath the untucked dress shirt, fingers scratching against a navel before running a thumb across the skin right above the waistband of the pristine-hued slacks. “Am I scaring you off, sir?” came the compliant little tone, mocked meekness running rampant through his words but were skewed and put off by that thick rumbling that continued to grow like some engine. Saturated in a dark emotion and it was with restraint was Sam Winchester keeping himself reined in, and Lucifer could only turn his mouth into Sam’s jaw and bite fiercely into the curve of bone.

“Doing quite the opposite, actually,” he replied with a predatory growl, and dear Lord they were sick beings. Already feeling bright heat pool to the bottom of his being to slosh and churn excitedly in his lap, a sharp sound leaving the Winchester at the feeling of something stiff rubbing against him. Oh, they were both going directly to Hell. Do not pass go. Do not collect two hundred dollars. Becoming turned on at the thought of their staff becoming insecure and psychologically stressed messes due to image issues created by them? Of hanging up on a father who sincerely wished to reconnect with his son? It made them both curl their toes in pleasure, beginning to grind against the other with increasing fever.

A soft sound left those pink lips, feeling warm fingers continue to move upward across his chest before finding a pink nub. Fingers pinched and teeth were suddenly barred, a low sound seeping through those perfect rows of white teeth.

“Clothes off. Now,” came the biting orders and Sam complied without a hesitating thought, slipping out of his suit’s jacket. The older male worked with quick fingers the buttons on his own dress shirt, all their movements controlled despite the slight strain for a faster pace. What was preventing both from simply tearing the clothes off of their tall frames was the fabric and price of the clothing. Sam almost wanted to chuckle at the irony of what was prohibiting them at the moment, but the feeling of his length pressing vainly against the interior of his pants had him throw his attention back to taking off his slacks.

Moving off of Lucifer, he was shimmying out of his slacks before slipping his thumbs underneath the waistband of his boxers to tug down. Taking the clothes and folding them rather haphazardly besides the couch, he watched with greed the blonde lift his rather bony hips to slip his onyx boxer briefs off of his jutting pelvis. Possessively stalking forward, he caged the devil with his frame as lips found the mouth that was curving into a trademark smirk. The ghost of fingers running across his muscular thighs made him shiver and pull himself closer, entangling fingers into the thick golden locks near the back of Lucifer’s head, shoving his tongue into the coolness of his mouth.

Sucking on the tongue invading his mouth, teeth warningly scrapped against the wet flesh before rolling his hips into the Winchester. Bringing his right hand to his mouth, he brought his index and middle finger to his mouth, instantly drawing the brunette’s attention at the action. Leaning forward, a hand gently pulling at Lucifer’s wrist, moist fingers slipping out to only be enveloped by a now startling sweltering mouth. Murmuring a dark curse underneath his breath, the devil watched Sam tauntingly suck on his fingers, tongue dancing in the safety of his mouth. Moving forward, he kissed the corner of the youth’s mouth in appreciation. Finally allowing the digits to slip from his mouth, lips crashed against his, a sound of approval being swallowed.

Distracted by the way lips were coaxing his into heavier action, he was slightly aware of wet fingers tracing a design on the curve of his backside. He was somewhat aware that they were descending, but he was too satisfied with kissing the very air out of his boss’s lungs. It was only when a digit promptly slipped inside did he tense and jerk his mouth away, hissing at the slight pain.

“Shh,” the blonde cooed out soothingly, carefully curling his finger, “You should be used to this.” Amusement riddled the devil’s face and the Winchester responded by punching him in the arm, earning a laughing chuckle as he rubbed the abused arm with his free hand. “Temper, temper, you know I would never dream of upsetting you,” he drawled out thickly, and Sam was tempted to punch the smirking devil again for good measure.

“You’re an ass.”

“I’m not quite sure if you want me to respond to that or not,” Lucifer quipped back, the brunette heaving out a heavy sigh before he found his expression changing drastically from lack of good humor to soft surprise. A second finger slipped in, stretching and scissoring inside of him, coaxing his hips to move against the intrusion.

The brunette finally gave a whine when he felt a third finger inserted, trying to adjust to feeling of being forcibly coaxed open. As much as he wanted to scowl and remain stoic -- Jesus Christ he couldn’t do so with Lucifer who was weaseling his fingers further and further inside. Digging his nails into the leather couch, a choked sound left him when fingers began to move inside him, thrusting wetly. It was after a moment or two did he begin to bring himself down onto the slicked digits, feeling the blonde respond in turn by twisting his fingers. Clenching his jaw, he muffled a moan that was begging to be released, but pride held him. While emotions escaped him and morals were nothing but myths, he held onto the three cardinal principles: Pride, wrath, and lust. Pride told him to man it up and remember he was a man. Wrath told him to roughly turn the tables and do the same while snarling out words that would make a virgin blush a hot rouge. Lust told him to beg for more and moan like he was sixteen again and experimenting for the first time.

Sam was conflicted, and all he could seem to do was give a disgruntled sound that he demanded more.

“Patience, sweetheart. All good things come in time,” Lucifer chuckled deeply, that voice of his running down his spine, the curve of his backside and back to those working digits.

Sam snarled and snapped his hips, feeling the bump that signalized he hit knuckles, did he vainly fight for more. “If you mean that my fist will meet that smug fucking face of yours, than yes,” the brunette seethed, sick of being worked like some goddamn woman. He was six foot four, two hundred and something pounds of muscle and lacking a superego. He had no time to be fingered about and taken to some romantic goddamn fucking candlelit dinner. He wanted it rough. Brutal. He wanted Lucifer to verbally abuse him to the point he saw red.

This. Right. Here. Was. Not. Acceptable.

Fingers suddenly left him, and Sam shivered in anticipation for something else, staring rather hungrily at the top of the blonde’s head. Working his bottom lip, length throbbing against the underside of his navel, he waited....for two seconds.

“Nick,” he suddenly stressed out darkly, making a movement with his hand to position the blonde himself, lengthy fingers fiercely gripped his wrist. A thumb was digging into a pressure point and the brunette hissed, trying to jerk away but was instead pulled closer, feeling Lucifer’s length brush against his.

“I don’t think you understand, Sam,” came the slow and calm words, but they rang with such deadly authority, “You do as I say. When I say ‘go,’ you go.You come when I tell you to come. Do I make myself clear?” Sam licked his lips, feeling precum dribble and slide down his length, heart racing at the stern words issued out at him. Lucifer never barked out orders. Never rose his voice. It was all in how icily he could get his seemingly harmless words out, and did it sting when it was focused on you. This...was what Sam wanted. What made him so painfully attracted to the devil: he held authority that could not be rivaled. “After all...” he cooed out sweetly, releasing his wrist to allow his fingers to find the underside of the Winchester’s jaw, “You’re the one who keeps on saying ‘yes’ to me...”

Now that was an embarrassing fact, that he rather not go over in detail. He was the one in the end to truly pursue Lucifer’s offer. He was the one who ardently showed to the blonde that he was worthy to be accepted, saying ‘yes’ and ‘yes’ and ‘yes’ over and over until it was but a mantra in his head. He simply always had to say ‘yes’ to Lucifer. He was the alpha wolf despite how much he could secretly mutter of how he could overpower Lucifer. Just thinking about it made his blood boil, a low growl beginning to form in the base of his being before it turned to a yelp.

The blonde had been adjusting himself when he was lost in thought, and before he could save face, he was groaning in pleasure. Panting as he picked up the rhythm of Lucifer’s pace, he soon found himself twisting his hips into each thrust. The blonde breathed out something in encouragement, and Sam welcomingly continued it, soon beginning to control the rhythm.

Lucifer’s mouth found his, lips briefly brushing against the other, mouths busy breathing softly in the cool temperature office. “Going to do all the work for me? What a saint,” came the laughing and breathy words, sardonic and coiled in a way that was aiming to humiliate, “Or are you simply just being a greedy whore in heat...again?” The brunette instantly barred his teeth, teeth clicking as jaws clamped close, but he was far from insulted. Instead, he drank it in...enjoying the heat of the words, fanning a fire that the devil always seemed to keep alive. Verbal masochism made him weak in the knees when it came from his superior, and sometimes the Winchester would purposely do wrong to such a degree to stir that ugly side of Lucifer. To hear him lash out at him with full force, knocking him down his pedestal and stripping him away of every shred of dignity and self-esteem a bastard like him could possess.

If anyone knew how to funnel salt into an open wound, it was the devil, and no one else seemed to hold the same effect. Dean could berate him, call him a monster for giving his allegiance to such a snake like Lucifer, but it only made him flare his nostrils in disappointment. His friends and what’s left of his family could scream at him until they are blue in the face, but it never held a glimmer of what insult the Devil could bring.

Mouth moved over to his right ear as hands gripped his hips and controlled his movements, making the Winchester snarl and fight momentarily at the control being snagged from him. Fingernails dug deep into his skin in retaliation, hips jerking upward into Sam and feeling Lucifer move savagely inside of him to leave him aching terribly. Sam knew that was his second warning for him to comply, but he vainly struggled once again for kicks and giggles. Now it was but a game for him and he was going to poke and prod at the beast.

The blonde spat out something nasty into his ear, teeth violently tugging at his earlobe and making him wince considerably. Lucifer demanded obedience at this very moment, hissing out threats into his abused ear before promptly tossing him off. For someone who was shorter than him by an inch and not even close to the muscle mass he bore, the blonde bore wiry strength that landed him on the floor with possibly a bruised tailbone.

Growling, cursing at the blonde, he went to lift his hips to massage his abused tailbone when his action was cut short. The blonde was straddling him, pinning his hand underneath his back, as Sam hissed slightly. Sam wiggled and bucked, all the more tempted to flip the arrogant asshole sitting on him with cold knowledge that he held more power over the Winchester. Typical Lucifer to goad him. Typical Lucifer to push buttons no one else was brave enough to push. By far the blonde was the only being that could match his punch and his cruelty. Could hold such control over him despite the fact Sam was well aware that in a fight he would win.

Bending forward, a mouth scoured over the planes of his chest, cold tongue tasting the skin it was dragged across. Feeling himself willingly sedated, he panted heavily as he kept his eyes glued to the mouth that continued to move further and further south. Tracing the v-line that ran down his abdomen and edged down beneath his navel, the Winchester fought the urge to fist blonde hair and guide his actions. Lucifer was purposely neglecting what desperately needed attention and somewhere in the back of his mind he knew he wouldn’t be receiving any. Oh no...because if Sam was nearly as selfish of a prick as Lucifer, he would be doing the same. It’s all about me me me me me.

“Stop teasing me,” he gritted out darkly, arching his hips, and Lucifer drew his head back gracefully with a smug little smirk.

Tracing a finger across the wet path he left, he clicked his tongue, a mock look of question and innocence gripping his handsome face. “I have no idea what you are speaking of,” he murmured sheepishly, the finger moving over to run across the underside of his length. The Winchester shuddered and arched into the minuscule touch before it completely left him, hands jerking him by his right leg to toss it over his left shoulder.

“I’m pretty certain you really are Satan,” Sam bit down, eyes blaring with frustration.

“It is something I am slowly coming to terms with, Sam. In due time, in due time,” came the lavish purr, soothing their outbursts of aggressiveness as if was simply the rise and fall of a wave. A common tale of late. They would come to each other with impulse and excitement, to fall into familiarity and teasing, to rise into teeth clashing, and to finally fall into a state of finality and submission. Sam ached for a day it would be his turn to take control, but for now he would show his belly in coming defeat to the devil.

Feeling Lucifer slip inside of him with ease, he exhaled sharply as his body began to anticipate the rhythm and take it to heart. Allowing a hand to slip towards his neglected length, he moved his hand in time, gnawing on his bottom lip as he felt a warm flush of heat begin to overtake him. Lucifer was brushing against a sweet spot, and that glorious heat would trickle through to only leave when he moved. Like hell was he was going to beg, but it hardly mattered because the blonde’s pace was suddenly quickening. Sunspots were bleeding through his vision in bright shades of aqua and bruising purples, his hand soon being replaced by Lucifer’s. The cold touch against his feverish skin had him moaning wantonly, hands scratching and clawing at the floor underneath him for support. Leaning forward, forcing Sam’s leg to stretch, lips found his jaw. Nipping and biting at the skin, the cold mouth moved over to his ear to breathily exhale, “You may come now.”

Sam was certain his eyes were bleeding the surplus of colors in his vision as he hit his orgasm roughly, listening in satisfaction the low rumblings and vibrations developing in Lucifer’s chest before he followed right after. Exhaling heavily, he looped a sweaty arm around Lucifer’s neck, tugging him down onto his sticky chest with a sound of pleasure. Lips found the other, both silently praising the other through the ways tongues and lips slid against the other. Drawing back for air, the Winchester gave a soft hum as he pulled the devil onto his abdomen. Sitting up so he settled on his lap, eyes of frozen waters stared in half lidded curiosity at him.

“Let me get this straight... If I hang up on your Father...this is what I get. If I flip him off...does it get kinkier -- ”

“Dear lord, is that all you can think of? Filter, Sam Winchester. Filter. What did I say about needing a filter when it comes to what’s on your mind and what you are going to issue out with your mouth,” Lucifer scolded lightly, feeling fingers dig into his bare backside to pull him closer to the grumbling brunette.

“I think it’s a serious question that deserves a serious answer. I mean what if I verbally abuse him? Face-to-face? Do I get to play boss for a day?” he mused out with rambunctious sense of playfulness that told the devil that nothing good could come out of this one.

“Keep on dreaming big, Sam. It’s goals like this you have in life that reminds me why I love this world oh so much,” the blonde heaved out, hating to admit that he was growing terrible amused and fond of the Winchester. About to rise to his feet, he was held back down to be nudged onto his back, feeling the weight of the Winchester on him. An ambitious glint captured his eyes as he walked through all the scenarios he would gladly put himself through to insult a family he cared so little about, and honestly that was one way to make a devil swoon. There was something rather endearing watching your right hand man get protective over such a trivial thing. Sam had no reason to be involved, but he happily volunteered himself to sabotage a family that got rid of him. Wanting to run his eldest brother over with the most costly and pollution-vomiting vehicle? What a romantic.

By far the most pleasurable and successful business decision he has ever made was hiring Sam Winchester as his right hand man.

**Author's Note:**

> _Love it? Hate it? Tell me in a review!_
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>  **Notes:**   
>  \+ Lucifer was busy playing Fruit Ninja on his iPhone. True facts.


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